


Sunfault

by AugustArchon



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: But early enough in canon that Yugi and Yami have no clue they're different people, Canon - Manga, Feathershipping - Freeform, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 05:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21131147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AugustArchon/pseuds/AugustArchon
Summary: The corridors of the Puzzle are long and dark, and the spirit within is an angry, vengeful thing. He's tasted hope, though, in flickering glimpses of the people his other self holds dear. And if there's one thing beyond doubt, it's that Yami protects what's his.(In which Yami and Yugi are still convinced they're one and the same, and Yami knows nothing about happiness but finds it anyway)





	Sunfault

**Author's Note:**

> My eternal thanks to @puzzlerabbit for being editor, inspiration, and getting me into this cursed manga in the first place.

Yami, dark spirit that he is, is not a creature of happiness. He's felt it, sure, but not as his own. He rides the tides of his other self's emotions—joy, or sorrow, or whatever else the brighter side of his spirit might experience, gleaned in faded fragments from across their heart. There's no happiness to be found in the dark corridors of the puzzle; all he has to offer his other self is anger.

Anger, and on the bad days, fear.

Maybe that's why he feels such bloodlust when his friends are harmed. Maybe that's why it boils over like an unwatched pot, frothing and hissing as it hits the flames. He has nothing but his other self's happiness, and he'll defend it at any cost.

Anzu's presence is like a cool glass of cola. Bright, and sweet, and fizzing with a need to be near her, a need to please and impress and be the center of her focus. The other Yugi giggles around her, bubbling over with giddy awe.

Honda is a stable, reassuring presence that chases their fears away. A quiet protector to watch their back, banishing the monsters that lurk in the darker corners of school hallways, and offering a smile and easy support even when his friends’ interests don't line up with his own. He settles the more skittish parts of Yugi. Gives him space to breathe and stretch.

And Jounouchi… Jounouchi is like basking in the sunlight, if the sun were made for nobody but Yugi. Maybe that's why Yami cleaves to him like a moth fluttering against a lamp—he's drowned so long in the cold, damp, darkness of the Puzzle's maze that Jounouchi's warmth is a siren song to his miserable heart.

His other half clings to the boy like paste, light bouncing between their smiles, electric joy in every bumped shoulder or elbow.

Jounouchi, both halves of Yugi think in unison, is a bit like coming home.

When the puzzle is stolen in an arcade—wrenching Yami in half, tearing him from the part of his soul that matters—Jounouchi is the one to play a mock shadow game and win it back.

In the moments after his heart knits back together, when he stretches his darkness back into his body and looks up at the beaming smile of his best friend, he thinks that maybe he can feel happiness by himself after all.

When the owner of the Junky Scorpion trespasses against that sun-blessed heart, the dark corners of Yugi's soul flare up in icy rage. The lighter Yugi doesn't have a chance to react, because Yami is furious, spitting curses in a language he can't remember as he runs, forcing his body past its limits to catch the thief. It feels good to trap him in a game. Good to judge his soul unworthy and spin him into a fate of his own making.

He doesn't want to call for help. Let the man die, so far as he's concerned, for stealing Jounouchi's smile away. For stealing the warmth from Yugi's heart. But his other half insists, and the man lives.

A shame.

He returns the sneakers to Jounouchi, and storekeeper dead or not, it's worth it to see the way his friend's eyes light up with shock and joy. His gratitude is written plain as day across his face, and when he pulls Yami into a hug, the spirit is certain this is what happiness feels like.

His other self feels the same, Yami knows; when Jou is around their heart aches like it's full to bursting with happiness. It splits the seams and leaks everywhere, dripping golden wonder into Yami's waiting hands like the sweetest elixir he could dream of.

It makes school more bearable. His friends are the heavenly bodies whose gravity forms his orbit, tugging him in gentle loops and giving his darkness purpose. It's harder, sometimes, to be at home, because with nothing but himself for company Yugi tends to sink into the chill of the dark. Yami is little help—the shadows stem from him to begin with. He can't make light by himself; he can only soak up what's cast off from those around him.

And then Jounouchi vanishes.

Yami spends the day snatching glimpses from his other self's eyes, bathing in his anxiety and returning it in a feedback loop of fear. By the time they go to check Jou's apartment, Yugi is a trembling, shaking mess. And when his darker self hears the bottle smash against the door, smells the alcohol as it sprays, it's only his lighter half's desperate pleas that keep him from throwing the door open and calling up the cursed magic roiling in his gut.

Jou's been gone for two days without a word, and there's nothing Yami can do about it.

So he gnashes at the bit, yanking their body toward any possible lead, desperately trying to shove down the fear that he'll never see sunlight again.

It's almost worse when they find him.

When Jounouchi stares straight through Yugi, eyes cold and sharp as fractured ice.

Yugi clings to his hope in a way Yami can't comprehend. When his other half asks his opinion, Yami can only push back feelings of wrongness, of what Jounouchi's heart is meant to feel like and how it feels now.

He doesn't understand faith. Barely understands happiness, as fleeting as it is. Permanence isn't a strong suit of his—everything gets lost too easily in the shifting traps of his mind, himself included.

But he knows Jounouchi. And he knows that this is wrong.

His other self calls on the puzzle for help and Yami drags up the shadows in answer, pushes their knowledge toward his other mind. And there's enough of a shock, when he finally finds Jounouchi, that Yami can shove the light in Yugi down and throw himself into control.

Because Jou is unconscious, twitching from what Yami quickly realizes is electrocution, and the darkness is welling at his fingertips before he can consciously call for it.

Nobody present will ever breathe again.

It doesn't matter who actually laid a hand on Jounouchi; their presence is complicity and Yami will drag them into the most painful, screaming, begging death he can muster.

His veins are shadow and the bone-jarring cold of the deadest winter, eyes flashing with ancient magic never meant to be freed. He is wrath, and justice, and divine punishment, and as the current of the stun gun arcs into the water, Yami bares his teeth in a grin.

Death comes on electric wings.

Yami is simply a maven of retribution.

***

Jounouchi isn't allowed outside visitors his first day in the hospital. An ambulance vanishes him into the grey, and only family is allowed to enter his room.

A bottle, half-full, shatters again in Yugi's memory. He knows full well that nobody will be visiting.

Yami refuses to leave him alone, rules or no. After night has fallen he pulls their body up from its slumber, tucking Yugi safely into his soul room so he can take control without waking him. 

Sneaking through the hospital is just another amusement, simpler than the video games his other self is so fond of. He's small, and quiet, and humans are far simpler to trick than fickle computers. And so he slips through the doorway of Jounouchi's room barely half an hour later, pulling up a chair up beside the bed.

Jou stirs groggily, blinking against the moonlight until he resolves the silhouette.

"Yugi—?" he mumbles.

Yami smiles, lips splitting into a wide grin. "Hey."

Jounouchi groans miserably, the pain evident despite his efforts to mask it, and drops his head back against the pillow with apologies spilling from his lips.

“I shouldn’t have let him win,” he insists, grimacing from more than his body's discomfort. “What's the point in getting out if I can't stay out? I just got you hurt again, and that’s the one thing I promised myself I’d never—”

A hand on his arm is all it takes to silence him.

"You were trying to keep us safe," the dark spirit says softly. "You have a good heart. I know that."

Jou's eyes soften, and deep in his soul room the other Yugi yawns. Yami doesn't bother forcing him back to sleep—he'd wanted to visit Jounouchi, too, and frankly he's woken in far worse situations than this.

Once Yugi realizes where they are, Yami cedes control easily. He's no good with people, not when there's nothing to fight, and he's more than happy to let Yugi chatter away once his bewildered spike of fear subsides. Yami didn't come to talk. He came because gravity dragged him here like a chain of curse-magic. Because he needed to see Jounouchi alive and well, smiling that gentle, sunlight smile.

So Yugi talks, and Jounouchi smiles, and Yami basks in his presence like a cat in front of an afternoon window.

There's a brief flicker of something else in Yugi's chest. A familiar moth-flutter that catches Yami's attention and pulls it briefly from the blonde-framed relief lying in the bed. Yugi has gotten onto the bed too, at some point, because part of it's now raised so Jounouchi can sit upright, and Yugi is perched on the edge of the mattress facing him, fingers resting gingerly over Jou's like he needs reassurance that he's alive. That he's okay, or as okay as could be expected under the circumstances.

Hope and want and fear flash in tandem at something Jounouchi does, and Yami catches an image he doesn't understand as it tickles his other self's mind. He doesn't need to understand, though; Yugi wants it. And Yami wants what Yugi wants, because Yugi's happiness is his own.

There's no fear left in the dark spirit's heart today, exhausted in the desperate search for his friend. All he knows is that he and Yugi feel the same deep-set pull toward the boy in front of them, and that Yugi doesn't have the courage to do what he wishes.

A good thing then, that Yami is his courage.

He rises up in their chest, pulling Yugi down from control to take his place. Leaning forward is easy as breathing, like he's following a script he didn't know he'd read. Like he's relearning the part from memory, and can fall back into it even if the precise steps have long vanished.

Jou's eyes flicker down and back up again, wide and vulnerable. Worried, like he's searching for a cruel trick.

Yami would trick a thousand people without regret, but never him.

Their lips meet and the image clicks in his head, understanding suddenly why his other self wanted this and what it means. Jou's fingers tangle in his hair and it's like an electric current, like shoving his finger into a wall socket and holding it there, too much and too little and a font of _ yes, this is right, this is what is meant to be _.

Yugi startles and Yami tugs him up again, cedes control, watches with giddy joy as the better half of him melts against Jounouchi's chest. He knows better than Yami what he's doing and Yami skims that experience from the top of his mind, enjoying the technicolor emotion kaleidoscoping through their chest.

But then Jou hisses, "_Shit_," pushing Yugi back wild-eyed. "They've got me on a heart monitor; someone's gonna check on me. You gotta hide."

Even as he says it the latch of the door clicks and Yugi's good as gone in an instant, under the bed with his knees tucked to his chest, out of sight and taking up as little space as possible. He’s good at hiding—it’s a reliable way to avoid confrontation alongside running or climbing away from his troubles, and he’s had plenty of practice.

A nurse hurries in to fret, and it takes every ounce of Yugi's self-control not to break down giggling at Jounouchi's indignant defense that he's fine, really. To leave him alone already, thanks, he's survived hell today and deserves a chance to rub one out.

"You could have gone with anything," Yugi gasps with horrified laughter after they're alone again, crawling out from under the bed, "and you decided 'I was jerking off' was the obvious excuse? Not, I don't know, blaming it on a nightmare or something?"

"I had to think fast!" Jounouchi insists, and both halves of Yugi cackle as the boy pouts.

His lighter half recovers first, letting Yami snicker away in the background as he sobers and perches on the edge of the bed once more, dragging a thumbnail nervously against the loosely-fraying sheets. Yami can't figure out what his cocktail of emotions means this time—he can pick out the biggest parts, like the quiet want and the fear of rejection, but bashfulness isn't something Yami is experienced with the nuances of.

Instead, he hangs back quietly and watches. Waits to see what Yugi is thinking, when he spells it out in a language he understands.

"Hey," Yugi hedges quietly. Uncertainly. "I didn't… I didn't ruin anything, did I? I can pretend it never happened, if you want, I just don't— I can't lose your friendship, okay? Not because I acted stupid one night." He bites his lip in worry. "You're my best friend, Jou."

A hand takes his own, tugging it off the mattress, and Jounouchi traces his knuckles with a thumb. "Hey, chill out," he says gently. "You think I'd let something like that ruin Yu-Jou friendship?"

Jounouchi smiles in reassurance and Yami regrets letting his other self have control. He wants to feel that smile on his skin. But it's not his turn, not anymore, so he settles his opinions and feelings into the crook of Yugi's own, where they can mix and mingle and Yami can soak up Yugi's fluttering thoughts instead.

"I guess I'm just surprised, you know? Thought your eyes were on a different friend."

An embarrassed laugh bubbles up from Yugi's throat and he turns his face away to hide his blush in the darkness. "I mean, yeah, I've had a crush on Anzu since we were like, five," he admits. "It's fun to chase her, and she plays along, but we both know she's not actually interested in me like that. And I figure, if I really do care about her, then shouldn't I want her to find the person she's happy with, even if that's not me?" He shrugs, staring out the window determinedly like he's thinking about climbing out of it to escape having to admit this. Yami can taste his confusing mix of adoration and shame in the back of their throat. "It's the same for you. I care about you, and I want you to be happy. It's up to you how I figure into that."

Jounouchi turns his hand over and laces their fingers together, staring at them in thought. Yugi can't help but dwell on how helpless he feels, chipped nail polish cradled in Jounouchi's grasp as delicately as his heart.

"You do make me happy," Jounouchi admits quietly, like a secret. "And I didn't mind it. The kiss, I mean. It was… it was nice." He's blushing too, Yugi realizes.

"I wasn't imagining things, then," Yugi realizes. "You really were flirting lately."

It earns him an awkward laugh as Jounouchi runs his free hand through his hair. "Maybe a little? I don't know what I wanted. I just kept getting all awkward and flustered like you were some pretty chick, and it's weird. I mean, I'm not saying you're not pretty, it's just, I didn't think... you know?"

Yugi laughs, bright and cheerful like chimes in a gentle breeze, and nods. "Yeah, it's weird, huh? First time I kissed a guy was under the slide, on the cheek, when I was five. We thought that was how marriage worked. And then our teacher told us that you actually have to get like, legal documents signed and stuff to be married, and that you can't sign things until you're older, and it was a massive disappointment," Yugi mourns. "He was so cute… We were going to start a family of gachapon together. My daughter was a pink frog named Kero, and we couldn't decide who was the bride so we both made these awful dresses by taping leaves to our pants."

Jou's laughter lightens, nose wrinkling with his smile. "Holy shit."

"I think I lost my daughter at the post office," Yugi muses, deadpan, cocking his head at the memory. "I'm not sure, she might have fallen under the seat of the bus, but I never found her again."

And then they're both laughing again, Jou dropping his head against Yugi's shoulder while he cackles.

At the edges of his mind, Yami swirls like the mud kicked up in a puddle, leeching off the burbling stream of Yugi's joy and the electric current of Jounouchi's fingers skimming up his wrist. He wants more, wants to drown himself in the warmth of Jounouchi's gaze.

He shapes the image of a kiss, the same one he'd gleaned from his other half earlier, and pushes.

Hard.

Insistent.

_ We want this, _he reminds him without words. Laces it the echo of yearning behind their ribs.

It sparks in Yugi's chest, brushing the kindling gathered there and singeing it, almost catching fire before his other self smothers it in uncertainty and the fear of rejection. He's content to sit in Jounouchi's arms, tension still gripping his spine save for a gentle shiver as Jou's breath ghosts against his neck.

But Yami wants to melt again. To know what that feels like firsthand, to have someone hold him with enough kindness that he can claw the darkness out of his eyes. And if the other Yugi wants it—and he knows he does, can feel the flicker of his thoughts and the struggle in his soul to find the courage—then Yami will push.

And push he does, nudging the image harder, weaving in a plea thick with his own desperation. He lets the pieces of their broken soul mingle and consider it, consider what it would mean. Shares the feeling of warmth that he's chasing, and how it's salvation to the cold stone of his heart.

With an echoing flash of resolve, Yami knows the other him understands. Yugi sets his shoulders and takes a slow breath, gearing up and tugging at confidence Yami lets him pull from his shadowed heart.

He offers a thread of gratitude, too, woven into it. Much as he wants to take, much as he could take, they're equals in this. And it feels good to give, this time. He knows Yugi fears him, fears what he's capable of, but they're one and the same and Yami is trying to bridge that gap.

He cares about the other half of himself, even if he doesn't understand him. They're meant to balance, he thinks. It feels right when they manage, rare as it's been.

"Hey, Jou?" Yugi asks, voice a little shaky.

With a last huff of a laugh, sharp enough to make Yugi properly shudder, Jounouchi pushes himself back up again. Neither of them mention his wince of pain, but Yami feels a spike of worry in Yugi's thoughts before it's drowned again by anxiety.

"Yeah?"

Yugi blushes and stares resolutely at his knees. "Would it be okay if I kissed you again?"

“Oh.” Jounouchi blinks, eyes wide like a doe caught in the headlights of an oncoming bus. "Yeah. Yeah, we can do that."

A current of pride steals Yami's breath away, or whatever he has to pass for breath when he's not in control of their body. It's Yugi's pride, in himself for managing to ask, and for being told yes. It makes Yami preen—he'd made the right call.

Yugi leans in, skimming his fingertips along the curve of Jounouchi's cheek with reverent awe, and this time it's Jou's breath that hitches. Jou's cheeks that heat as Yugi leans in, close enough that their lips brush.

"Oh my god, you're really blushing," Yugi whispers in realization.

Jounouchi splutters as his cheeks darken. "Shut up! It's not my fault that you're all… all cute, and you're into me, and you snuck into my hospital room to make out… fuck, is it rude to call a guy cute?"

"Nah, I am cute," Yugi says with a laugh, lacing his fingers through the long hair at Jounouchi's nape. "So are you."

At that Jou kisses him, probably to shut him up, and Yugi tugs him closer like they're two pieces of a puzzle he's already fit together in his mind.

And then Yami feels a tug, fragile and uncertain, and he startles.

It's an offer. An offer the other Yugi has never made before—Yami always takes control or pushes it back; he's never been invited. But it's there, that tiny thread of a question, the barest impression of an outstretched hand, and Yami reaches back like if he grips too hard it might shatter.

He stretches his darkness out through their body, reclaiming bone and blood, soul meeting flesh in the midst of the kiss. It's like throwing himself onto a live wire. Yugi's emotions linger in their body, all adrenaline and awe and exhilaration, layered into Yami's desperate search for joy. It's not hard to find. Not when Jounouchi is kissing him like he's a miracle, arms around his waist to pull him closer.

And no, Yami doesn't know how to kiss. He thinks he might have, once, but his memory is lost to the darkness. Yugi does, though, and he can dip his fingers into that shared knowledge as one and the same. It's easy, then, to press forward into Jounouchi's embrace. To fist a hand in the front of his shirt, clinging like he's the only lifeline left in the sea. To kiss like he holds the secret to happiness hidden behind his lips.

They're not two souls in that lingering moment, one whole and the other split to pieces. They're a single, singing note of delight.

This must be what peace feels like, Yami thinks.

Jounouchi is the one who finally breaks the kiss, pressing their foreheads together as they both catch their breath. Yami isn't used to worrying about trivial matters like that; it's an odd feeling, to be so breathless. To feel his heart trembling in his chest like a single tap could shatter it, so vulnerable to every touch and word. But the darkness has fled, just for this fleeting moment, and he could weep.

"Fuck," Jou whispers, eyes still closed, fingers settling into the dip of Yami's collarbone.

Yami laughs, relief spilling over into real, firsthand joy. He never wants this to end, wants to stay curled up forever with this boy who feels like freedom.

There's warmth at his chest, and warmth shifting in his mind from the other Yugi's delight, and he feels whole in a way that was taken from him, he thinks, in whatever dark magic tore him in two and locked him in the puzzle.

Jou pecks him on the lips again, grin lighting his eyes.

And Yami, all the gods save him, can't help but grin back.


End file.
